Wishful Thinking Book Two: All BoxedUp
by AJ Maxwell
Summary: Continuation of "The Words...". Heero P.O.V. While Duo recounted his past in the first book, the second book offers a glimpse of Heero's. AU, shounen ai. HeeroDuo, with sorta ZechsHeero? Hmm... thank you to everyone who reviewed! ::glomps::
1. Part One

Disclaimers: Gundam Wing is not mine. No copyright infringement intended. I am not making money out of this. Original part of the fiction is the property and is copyrighted to the author.  
Category: AU, shounen ai get-together fic  
Rating: PG  
Pairings: 1+2+1  
WARNINGS: liberal usage of the f word, sappy poem and OOC-ness  
Dedication: This is for Emmy-chan. 

Title: Wishful Thinking, Book Two: All Boxed-Up (Chapter Two)  
Author: AJ Maxwell ( webmaster@weluvduo.zzn.com )

I'm having difficulty sleeping tonight. Ever since I received the letter, and having Trowa's confirmation of whom it was from, I felt so..._different_. 

I turn on my bedside lamp and slip the letter out from under my pillow. I can't believe it. I just can't believe it. It's from him. It's really from Duo! I feel foolish as I read the whole thing again and again, but I feel great...wait. "I must bid farewell to my muse--My ocean of creative juice---And this may sound silly, or corny, or both but..." No... "...But thank you for the poems." No, this can't be happening... "Good luck and goodbye." 

"No..." The letter falls from my hands and lands on the floor. What happened? What had just happened? Why is this happening? Why didn't I realize it sooner? He's saying goodbye...but why? He says I'm his muse, that I've been his muse these past several years. There is a certain joy--_exultation_ that I am feeling along with the dread of the fact that Duo just wrote me a farewell letter. I'm _ecstatic_, even if it's not really obvious in my face, to know that those poems, all those poems that I loved and kept in my box are all...have been...for me? "My ocean of creative juice...I'm his ocean of creative juice!" I gasp in awe as tears begin to sting the back of my eyes. I bite my lower lip in disbelief, and with all the emotions that are suddenly coursing through me like a tsunami. "I'm his fucking ocean of creative juice..." A sob escapes me. I hold it in quickly, covering my mouth with both hands. What did I miss? Has this thing been just under my nose all these years? Have I been so blind? Has he been sending me signals all along? Why didn't I notice? Why didn't I _know_? 

I am starting to have a hard time breathing. Without my medicine my asthma really gives me trouble. I don't want my parents and all my siblings to come barging into my room at this time of the night--no I don't want them getting all concerned for me _again_. They've given me enough trouble with me playing basketball with their mother hen attitude. It's not that I'm not grateful. I _am_ grateful for their concern, but they've been treating me like I'm some fucking fragile china doll...and haven't they noticed that I'm really trying my best to be normal? I just want to be one of the best...maybe even almost perfect just so people won't see me as weak and that my parents would just stop comparing me to my older brothers and sisters. I hate feeling weak and being compared. One of the things that I hate most is being pitied on because of my weaknesses. 

I regulate my breathing and then take my medicine. I look at the letter on the floor one more time, thinking if I want to pick it up just yet. 

Deciding to pick it up, I place it in its envelope and reach for my box. As I've said, it's where I keep all of Duo's poems--those that I could get my hands onto, that is. I bet he's got a lot of poems in that notebook I've always seen him writing on when he's sitting on one of those benches in the garden. Still, I don't really have just quite a few. I don't only cut the poems and articles that he had published in the school paper, but I also search for the poems that he'd used to enter to poetry contests on the internet. How did I know that he joins poetry contests? The school broadcasts it to the whole student body with their congratulatory assemblies for him. I also photocopied those poems that he wrote whenever he won (he's never lost a contest), sneaking the poem from the bulletin board for just a few minutes to get it photocopied. I nearly got into trouble one time, but Trowa backed me up. As for Trowa backing me up, I also benefited several poems from Trowa who is friends with Quatre. 

You think I'm obsessed? Maybe I am. Now that I know that Duo had been writing those poems because of me, then I don't think it's appropriate for me to say that I sometimes dream that he writes his poems for me anymore; that whenever I read his poems, I feel like he's just in front of me, talking to me... 

~Lovely, fragrant rose  
Disturbing in your beauty, in your poetic darkness  
Your shadows add greatly to your intense splendor  
You leave me gasping for breath, as I blindly reach out  
Oh, so drawn to your velvety petals, to the mists that drop from your lips--  
I reach out to hold you in my arms, and feel the sharpness of  
Your thousands of hideous thorns, like bandits, concealed in your fresh leaves. 

I suddenly remembered a line from a book I read,  
'To love you is to feel your pain'  
Your thorns piercing my mortal flesh, I wince,  
And feel the agony you feel inside, but I am glad  
For I share the anguish in your heart--  
You are the love I never had. 

Blinded by the shadows of your being, something suddenly sprang to mind,  
'To love you is to see what is beheld by your eyes'  
And from the murkiness of my sight, I now know;  
This is your world, this is what you see  
Your world: sad, empty, black  
I feel your thorns scraping my insides, and though nearly crying out in pain,  
There's a smile on my lips...I now know you,  
The love I never had. 

Exquisite dark rose, do you feel your burden lighten,  
Do you feel my joy in lifting your load,  
Do you see the light in my eyes when I look at you,  
And hear my laughter amidst the pouring rain  
I've swept the thick clouds away--do you feel any warmth? 

Have you peered into my world  
Of sunshine, chocolates, blue heavens,  
Delightful spring days and summer nights that never run out of iced tea,  
Soft pillows beneath your head, and teddy bears all around? 

Have you seen my world, have you seen me?  
Have you known me, is there a smile on your lips?  
Have you learned to love me--do you feel my pain?  
Am I the love you never had?~ 

...like he knows every secret of my soul. Whenever I read this, it touches something inside me that I can't understand, and it feels like a weight is lifted off me. 

I turn off the lamp and keep my box close to me. Yes, Duo. I'd really love to peer into your world "Of sunshine, chocolates, blue heavens," I whisper, from my heart's memory, "'delightful spring days and summer nights that never run out of iced tea'...I'd love to, Duo, and I don't want to say goodbye." 

No. I won't say goodbye. Duo and I are going to talk tomorrow, on graduation day. 

**. t o b e c o n t i n u e d .**


	2. Part Two

Disclaimers: Gundam Wing is not mine. No copyright infringement intended. I am not making money out of this. Original part of the fiction is the property and is copyrighted to the author.   
Category: AU, shounen ai get together fic  
Rating: PG  
Pairings: 1+2+1  
Warnings: some OOCness, sap, WAFF  
Dedication: This is for Emmy-chan

Title: Wishful Thinking, Book Two: All Boxed-Up (Chapter One)  
Author: AJ Maxwell ( webmaster@weluvduo.zzn.com )

*flashback* 

"Are you alright?" a cheerful voice piped up in front of me. 

Oh no. No please not one of them again... 

"Hey," the annoying voice continued to prod. "Whatssamatter? Bullies?" 

I looked up suddenly, and came eye-to-eye with pretty, purplish pools. 

"Hi! I'm Duo," he said, extending his hand to me and smiling at me amiably. "What's yours?" 

At that question, I burst into tears again. 

The bell rang, signaling us first graders that classes were about to begin. I was so ashamed because I couldn't stop crying, and scared that those other kids would start making fun of my name again. I hate them! Why don't they pick on somebody else? What's so funny about my name, anyway?! 

The boy whistled. "I think we're gonna be late. But that's okay! What happened to ya? Stop cryin' already, 'kay?" 

It was really surprising. A second later I was confessing to him like he we were best friends. "My classmates were teasing me--" 

"About what?" he asked, curiosity making his eyes huge. 

Suddenly, I felt very shy. What if this kid also thought it's funny? Then what? 

"About what?" he prodded again. 

"They said my surname sounded like 'yoyo'!" I blurted out, then cried again. "And they call me Superman and Batman and Sailormoon!" I hate those people! They're really gonna pay once I get bigger... 

If it was possible, the boy's eyes started to get wider. Uh-oh. He's going to ask what my surname is! I have to get to class! Quick! 

I turned my back to him, preparing to run to my classroom when he stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. His chubby face loomed over me with interest. Oh no. This is not good. 

"Let go!" I said, giving him my best glare. 

"What's your name, anyway?" he asked. 

I glared at him further. It wasn't working, so I decided to answer his question. "Heero Yuy." 

I closed my eyes. He's going to laugh, I knew it! Any moment now I'm gonna hear his laughter and he's going to tell it to everybody! Oh no oh no. I have to run! 

I opened my eyes. Why wasn't he laughing? He's supposed to laugh, wasn't he? Why wasn't he laughing? 

"'Yuy' absolutely doesn't sound like 'yoyo'," he declared resolutely, his wide eyes narrowing to violet slits. "Your classmates are mean. Don't listen to them anymore. They shouldn't tease you like that!" 

It was like I just stared at him for a minute, then I heard Trowa, my neighbor and best friend, calling my name. 

"Hee~roo~~," he called out, his face never changing. "Hee~roo~~." 

I knew Trowa wasn't going to stop calling me if I didn't run to the classroom already. I shouted back, then said to the boy, "I hafto go now." 

He smiled at me, then winked. "Hafta go, too. I'll see ya 'round." 

"Yeah..." 

And as I ran to the classroom, I kept glancing back at him. 

What was his name again? Think. Think! 

"Duo..." I whispered to myself. "Duo..." 

*end flashback* 

I've never forgotten that name. 

The day after that, I kept looking for him in the corridors, hoping that he would pass by. The first time it happened, I was walking to his classroom's direction (where the comfort room was located), and he was walking to my classroom's direction, which was just beside the drinking fountain. I nearly brushed up to him, and I even looked into his eyes. 

He didn't recognize me. 

I shouldn't have hoped for something...I don't know. I guess I hoped that he could be my friend that time. I guess I hoped that Trowa and I could be best friends with him, too. 

It's been such a long time, and yet I still feel a little regret--just a tinge of it--whenever I remember that incident in my life. And now that I'm graduating--no, _we're_ graduating, I can't help but feel like I've wasted something that could have possibly been very important. 

We've been schoolmates for a long time now, and not once did we say hi to each other in the corridors or whenever we were headed to each other's direction. There was one time when we were juniors that he said hi to me out of nowhere, but I was so surprised I wasn't able to say anything. I hoped that he would do that again afterwards, but there was never a repeat. Now that I think about it, it makes me feel sad. 

A whim came over me, and before I was even aware of it I already had my top-secret box on my lap. Opening it with shivering fingers, I peered into the box, revealing its contents. 

No one else knows about this box, except for Trowa and myself. Trowa's known the...things (I'll call it things because I don't know what name to give it) that I hold for Duo Maxwell, and yes I know Duo's surname because I did some research. And who wouldn't know it when he's just one of the most talked about boys on campus? Girls (and guys) swarm around him like bees to honey, crooning over his gorgeous hair, dreamy eyes, delectable grin and intense aura whenever he writes something. I shake my head. Those are the same things that I croon about Duo to Trowa, plus the fact that he sings so well (The sound of his voice makes me hard. I'm not kidding I've already tried it, okay.) and that he's so...different than other people I know. He's just so...he just feels right to me. Like we belong, or something. 

Do I make any sense? 

There's light rapping on my window. I wonder why Trowa's dropped by today. I mean, he's usually at Quatre's every Thursday night. 

I open the window to let my friend in. "Sessions with Quatre over early?" 

Instead of answering, he hands me a letter. I look at him curiously, then examine the envelope. There isn't any address signed on it, just a simple 'Heero' printed neatly. I look at Trowa again, asking from whom the letter was, but he just sits on my bed and sorts through my box's contents. 

I open the envelope. Maybe it's signed inside. 

~I tried to write a few stanzas for you  
The last ones to end the past several years  
But like my tied tongue, my pen is frozen,  
Refusing to say goodbye. 

A sort of closure for me, this is,  
And I must do this for my own mind's peace;  
I must bid farewell to my muse--  
My ocean of creative juice---  
And this may sound silly, or corny, or both but... 

...But thank you for the poems. 

Good luck and goodbye.~ 

"Trowa, who's this from?" I ask anxiously. Who would write something like this? And is this really for me? "Trowa?" 

"Somebody just told me to give it to you. Didn't say from whom," he replies noncommittally, while reading through one of the clippings that I've collected in my box. 

Trowa isn't telling me something. "I bet Quatre handed it over to you." 

He keeps silent, and his head is a little lowered than before. I knew it. 

"Who is it from, Trowa?" I ask again. As a follow-up, I added, "I thought we're friends." 

Inwardly, I sneer. I always get him by that. 

"Quatre just asked me to give it to you, okay," he says at last, still not looking at me. "Said a friend of his asked him to hand it to me to be given to you. I don't know anything beyond that." 

"Is it Duo?" I press. Suddenly there's this feeling that's trying to burst out from me. I hope it's from Duo. Oh gods I wish it's from Duo... 

Wait, wait! That's not right! Why _would_ Duo write something like this for me? Why _would_ Duo write anything at all for me? Isn't that a bit too...presumptuous? I don't think he even knows I exist anymore. 

"...Yeah." 

I nearly missed that. "W-what?" 

Trowa looks up at me at last, mild wonder mirrored in his eyes, then smirks. "You're a bit flustered." 

I blink. I am. "It's from him?" 

He shakes his head. "What'd I tell you?" 

I just stare in amazement at Trowa, then at the letter, then at Trowa again. I suddenly have this strange feeling of...I feel like I'm floating. Floating in happiness...floating in happiness...floating in happiness...Duo... 

"Heero? Are you alright? You're scaring me...Heero?" 

Floating in happiness... 

**. t o b e c o n t i n u e d .**


	3. Part Three

Disclaimers: Gundam Wing is not mine. No copyright infringement intended. I am not making money out of this. Original part of the fiction is the property and is copyrighted to the author.  
Category: AU, shounen ai get-together fic  
Rating: PG  
Pairing: 1+2+1  
WARNINGS: some OOC-ness, toothache-inducing sap  
Dedication: This is for Emmy-chan.  
Notes: The poems that will appear in Heero's POV are all still by Duo. Remember Duo's poems in Heero's box? Duo's poems appear in his POV because he loves Duo's poems and that he can also relate to them. In this part, we go back to their freshman year. ::winks:: I was supposed to start on fifth grade, but I changed my mind and rewrote it again. This way we get to the graduation day *much* quicker. :)

Title: Wishful Thinking, Book Two: All Boxed-Up (Chapter Three)  
Author: AJ Maxwell ( webmaster@weluvduo.zzn.com )

~Estranged, now we are  
And ice fills my heart, encasing my nerves with its painful chill;  
I lean against my window's glass, already worn by time,  
As I watch the memories pass me by. 

I yearn to grab time by its shirt lapels,  
And drag it, back to the good days  
Where there is always the heart-warming presence of the sun,   
And where the rains are always pleasant--music to my wilting spirit.~ 

--Shinigami 

I am a bit surprised to see this in the literary section of the high school's official publication. News of Duo being part of the school paper already haven't reached me yet, but I just have a strong feeling about this one. I haven't read a lot of Duo's works, but from the tone of this, I just _know_ that he's the one who wrote this. 

I am well aware of Duo's fascination with death, what with all the dark poems that he had written a year ago, and Shinigami means 'God of Death'. I wonder what made him write this. I really am curious...Does he feel these things? Does he actually _believe_ in what he writes, or is everything just pure imagination? I have these questions in mind as my vision searches for his bent, isolated form on one of the stone benches. It is already an hour past dismissal time, and I hope that he is still on campus. 

I take another step nearer, looking over a growth of bushes in the garden. I just hope that I don't step on a twig, or Duo might think I'm some loser or something if he catches me peeking at him like this. 

Suddenly, there is a gust of wind and it carries a noise that sounds like a mournful, surprised yelp. I duck behind the bushes, wishing with closed eyes and tight fists that Duo won't discover me here. I hear a rustling sound rolling nearer and nearer, and then the wind stops. 

I open my eyes to find a sheet of paper with something scrawled on it. I haven't really thought of it; my brain is just not working then all of a sudden the paper is in my hands sliding into my pocket. I quickly run away, not looking back and not daring to make a sound. 

~I peer into the picture frame in my head   
The one in Prussian blue marble adorned with silver, glittery things,   
And I wonder about what you've been doing lately;   
I miss you in a way I'm not sure why. 

I've seen you everyday but never seen _you_;   
Always behind that facade, that wall that you erected around yourself;   
So perfect outside, you invite detectors of   
Sweet imperfection. 

Are you playing basketball, or are you reading a book?   
Or maybe you've found someone--someone not me to read poetry to you,   
_With_ you, and~ 

Shit. Duo had been writing this when the wind blew and it flew from his grasp. It was he who yelped--how he must have felt so frustrated in looking for this in the garden. It's beautiful, but it's unfinished. I don't know if I want to give this back to him, though. I sure don't want him to find out about...well, you know. He would question my motives and ask why I didn't give it back to him in the first place, or why I even picked it up and ran off with it. And during the questioning I won't be able to say a thing, and he will think that I'm just some moron who can't do anything better with his time, and then he might think of me badly. No, definitely no. I can't return this to Duo. I feel guilty about it, but I just can't let him know. Heero Yuy, you amaze me sometimes. At least I have another addition to keep in my box. 

I read it again for about four times more, then I inspect his handwriting. If he keeps on writing like the way he does then one day he might tear a paper with it. The letters are bold and clear, and the pen used is a black sign pen whose tip is thicker than the ones people normally use. Just like him, I think. He has a uniqueness that just draws people to him and leaves a lasting impression. 

I'm dreaming again. I better start on those algebra problems and the other reading assignments. I take out my box from underneath my bed and open it, poised to keep the piece of treasure in it when I finally notice something. The paper is a receipt from the library. Overdue fine for ten days. I don't know why this makes me smile. 

I wonder whom he wrote this for... 

**. t o b e c o n t i n u e d .**


	4. Part Four

Disclaimers: Gundam Wing is not mine. No copyright infringement intended. I am not making money out of this. Original part of the fiction is the property and is copyrighted to the author.  
Category: AU, shounen ai get-together fic  
Rating: PG  
Pairing: 1+2+1, and a surprise!!! XD  
WARNING: Hmm...the same things. OOCness and sappiness. And Duo crushing on somebody besides Heero deserves a warning, too. ^^  
Dedication: For Emmy-chan  
Notes: They're still freshmen here, 'k. ^_^

Title: Wishful Thinking, Book Two: All Boxed-Up (Chapter Four)  
Author: AJ Maxwell ( webmaster@weluvduo.zzn.com )

I just cannot believe it. It's been a week since Duo's unfinished poem practically flew towards me, and for all that time we keep bumping into each other. Not literally 'bumping' into each other--I would have loved that, but unfortunately it isn't so. We just see each other a lot and pass by each other along the corridors. And whenever I dare to look at him, I am torn to pieces all over again.

I just know that he's devastated about what happened. The lack of emotion in his eyes makes me feel like self-destructing, but never did I feel like returning his poem. I just _can't_. I just can't imagine what he'll think of me when he finds out. I may be such a foolish bastard sometimes, but still. Just thinking of what might happen makes me want to run the opposite direction and be never seen again.

"What are you thinking?"

"Oh." I blink and my gaze focus on Trowa, who has just come from getting some chicken and chips. He sits across me, then supplies me with the information, "He's at the bench behind me facing you."

I look at my soda, wondering why I bought it in the first place. "I didn't know that."

"I figured that much. You were spacing out again. Since it's obvious that there is something wrong, are you going to tell me about it?" he asks.

"It's just that--"

"Duo," an authoritative voice cut through the noise of the cafeteria. I stop mid-sentence to look at what is happening. Noin, a straight-A senior and the editor-in-chief of the school paper, stops by Duo's table and looks at him with a slight frown. What is the problem now, I wonder. Duo looks a bit nervous.

"What are they saying?" I ask Trowa, who is nearer to the group.

"I can't understand the rest of what they're saying...wait. I think it's about Duo messing up with something...that he has to fix it."

I nod. I hope it's not too bad. When Noin is already a few feet away, I look at Duo, who, to my surprise, is blushing to the roots of his hair and grinning like a maniac.

I have difficulty describing what I suddenly feel. It's like I feel betrayed and confused and at the same time I feel like smiling because Duo looks so adorable blushing like that. Why is he reacting like that? As I ask that question the annoying voice of whatever it is starts up again, "He looks familiar, don't you think, Heero? He almost acts just like you--"

'Shut up!' I mentally growl. 'Don't tell me it's because he has a crush on Noin...'

The Voice just whistles a nonsense tune.

'He can't like her. He just can't,' I repeat to myself over and over.

"Heero?"

I blink. "What?"

"I think I forgot to tell you something," Trowa says softly while poking chicken bits with a toothpick. His eyes tell me that he's going to tell me something that's a secret, and that I must not react in a way that people might suspect something, since Quatre is just behind him. I lean forward. "What is it?"

I slowly lean back as my suspicion is confirmed.

~Could there be a more cruel fate than this?  
To live in stormy climes and whipping winds  
To live in a weather-beaten dwelling,  
And still yearn for the soft touch of your skin?  
Dreaming of your starry eyes day and night,  
Oh, just looking at me, saying a lot  
For your eyes, they speak volumes in minutes,  
And keep me warm through the deadliest chill  
All throughout the night, but fate is cruel  
As I said, and I am to die in here  
In this shoddiness, in this frigid place  
Shivering from cold, dying, all alone  
Still I am dreaming, your name on my lips,  
Parched they are, still calling your name...last sigh.

--Sonnet #1 by Shinigami~

This is the first time that I've ever been torn between crumpling his poetry and keeping it. His words in this sonnet speak exactly of what I feel. I am such a fool to think...to even wish that these are all for me when all along they've been written for Noin. And what a way to make a good impression on her. Of course Noin won't be able to _not_ read his poems, which are all dedicated to her.

What is this box for? I am only filling up my head with lies. I've always known that Duo will never feel the same. How could he ever feel the same when he's straight? Lucrezia Noin is mature, driven, an overachiever, and well-liked while I'm just Heero Yuy; asthmatic varsity basketball player (which might seem impossible but I haven't had any attacks for two years now), Math semi-whiz, and nothing more. What can I possibly have that would make him notice me and not her?

This is useless. He can't be gay. I'm sure that Noin won't be able to resist him when she finds out about how he feels. Either sink or move on, Yuy.

I have made my choice. It's better this way.

I'm going to burn the box, along with everything in it.

Goodbye, Duo.

**. t o b e c o n t i n u e d .**


	5. Part Five A

Disclaimers: Gundam Wing is not mine. No copyright infringement intended. I am not making money out of this. Original part of the fiction is the property and is copyrighted to the author.   
Category: AU, shounen ai get-together fic  
Rating: PG  
Pairing: 1+2+1  
WARNING: language, sap, OOCness  
Dedication: For Emmy-chan  
Notes: I must inform you first that I patterned their school details from what I am familiar with. Here, they don't go around to different classrooms and meet different classmates after every subject. They stay in one classroom, with the same people all throughout the school year, and the teachers are the ones who go from classroom to classroom after every period. I believe that Duo mentioned something like, "Heero and I have never been classmates before" in "The Words...", and I failed to mention this little tidbit that I am noting now. I'm sorry. :)

Title: Wishful Thinking, Book Two: All Boxed-Up (Chapter Five A)  
Author: AJ Maxwell ( webmaster@weluvduo.zzn.com )

The new issue of the school paper is out, and I grab my copy before everyone crowds around the pile. I leaf through the pages, the feel of the paper very familiar to my hands. 

Walking straight to my locker, I find Trowa already there, standing in front of his own locker and talking with Quatre. 

"Don't be late, okay? We have a lot of work to do this afternoon," I hear Quatre saying to Trowa. 

"I won't be late. Bye, Quatre." 

The blonde boy leaves, throwing a reserved smile in my direction, which I answer with a nod. "What was that?" 

Trowa just shrugs. "Mr. Corman's absent today, and we were supposed to continue practicing for the concert next week. The seniors are still enjoying their seniority over us 'lower levels', so they're kind of being a bunch of bullies sometimes. That's why we shouldn't be late, because the President and her cohorts might...y'know, at the slightest thing going wrong." 

I'm a bit surprised at my friend's reply. For Trowa, that is a mouthful. I just shrug it off and open my locker, but not missing the raised eyebrow. 

"What?" I open my locker and place my copy of the school paper inside. 

Leaning against his locker, he nods, referring to the thing that I vowed not to get my hands on ever again. "That." 

"It's nothing," I grunt a bit defensively, still going through my books. 

"You said, and I quote, 'I will never touch anything that has to do with Duo Maxwell for as long as I live.'. What happened to that?" 

I slam my locker shut, a bit embarrassed and exasperated. Okay, I did say that. But am I not allowed to change my mind? 

"You changed your mind," he nods sagely, smirking. "I knew it all along." 

"Hn." 

~I just can't help but imagine 

How your eyes would feel if I dive into their stunning blue depths, 

If I would feel cold, hot, or deliciously warm; 

Enveloped in their liquid Prussian arms--caressed by your arms. 

I wish we're together.~ --Shinigami 

I still find myself reading his words; reading what his heart screams everyday. I can't help it. Last year I vowed to forget him, to just let him go and let everything that I have of him go, but I couldn't. I tried, I really did but I failed. And now I still feel the pain. See? He's still pining for Noin who, though it shames me a bit to be glad, has already gone away for college. Blue eyes...he still wishes they're together when they obviously couldn't have a chance anymore. This frustrates me somewhat, but Noin's off to college and inevitably she's going to meet people her age. Men are going to hit on her, not just mere high school sophomore boys. For a moment this thought makes me feel better. 

I reach down to the floor, my hand grabbing for the box under my bed. Yes, I did say that I was going to burn it; I said a lot of things during that time, but just like all the other words that came out of my mouth, I couldn't do it. 

(begin flashback) 

Trowa just looked at me expressionlessly. "So, you're really going to burn it." 

"Yes," I answered. 

"Okay. I brought the matches. Let's burn it in the backyard." 

For a second I was shocked. What? Wasn't he going to talk me out of it? He's really being suspiciously helpful. I scowl. 

"What?" he raised an eyebrow at me. "You think I'm kidding? You're serious about forgetting him, right? Why shouldn't I help you with it? As you've said, this has gone on for too long already." 

I paused for a few seconds, then, "Hai. Let's go." 

We went down, past the garage and into the backyard. Several minutes after Trowa already got a medium-sized fire going. "Give me the box." 

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Why?" 

Trowa just looked bored. "I said I was going to help you burn it. Let me have it." 

"N-no...I'll do it myself." 

Suddenly Trowa chuckled softly. "Okay. And maybe you want this to be a private moment." 

"Shut up, Trowa." 

He stopped laughing at me, but the amused gleam in his eyes stayed. "I guess I'll leave you alone with your box, Heero. I think you need some privacy." 

"Thank you for your moral support," I remarked snidely at his retreating back. 

I'm going to do it. I'm really going to do it. 

... 

... 

...Damn it! Heero! Just toss the box into the fire, damnit!! 

... 

Fine. Close your eyes. On the count of ten, throw the box. One, two, three, four.. 

..my hands are shaking.. 

..five, six, seven, eight, 

Then I started coughing a bit, which turned to a slight wheezing. I groaned. No. 

Get out of the smoke, baka! 

The wheezing went worse, and I used both hands to cover my nose and mouth as I quickly moved away from the range of smoke. I coughed some more, my other hand searching my pocket for my nebulizer. There! As I tried to "cure" myself, I was suddenly aware of something *very* wrong. 

"WHERE'S THE DAMN BOX???!?!?!?!?" 

(end flashback) 

It's a bit charred around one side. During my coughing fit I somehow dropped it, and then I guess it bounced near the fire. My box is made of really hard, recycled cardboard, and when I found it, one side was a bit burned, and the rest of it was wet (I had to put out the fire first). It is a good thing that the lid did not come off when it landed on the grass, or else the fire would have eaten the very treasures that I keep there. 

I glance at the poem. To keep or not to keep? 

Why do I even ask myself? 

**. t o b e c o n t i n u e d .**


	6. Part Five B

Disclaimers: Gundam Wing is not mine. No copyright infringement intended. I am not making money out of this. Original part of the fiction is the property and is copyrighted to the author.   
Category: AU, shounen ai get-together fic  
Rating: PG  
Pairing: 1+2+1  
WARNINGS: An incredibly, toothachingly sappy poem!  
Dedication: For Emmy-chan  
Notes: *Another* vital school tidbit: their classes start on June and ends on March. I know this is weird for most of you, but I wouldn't dare experiment on something that I don't have knowledge/experience of.

Title: Wishful Thinking, Book Two: All Boxed-Up (Chapter Five B)  
Author: AJ Maxwell ( webmaster@weluvduo.zzn.com )

Regular classes have begun, and we are meeting our subject teachers today. For most people, this day is something that is to be dreaded and to be faced with boredom, but not me. Let's just say that I'm...seeing an old friend later, during History period. The thought of Zechs, or Mr. Peacecraft as I will be required to call him within the campus, lifts up my spirit a bit. 

...I saw Duo this morning and he was late like I was. I rarely come in to school late; I _hate_ being late. This morning's different, though. He is just so...(discreet sigh). Well, pardon me for acting like some lovesick baka. I have no intention to act like so, it's just that when I saw him earlier it was obvious that he hadn't had much sleep, since he was yawning all over the place and blinking those sparkling violets at everyone and he just looked so kawaii. He looked like he'd just been run over by a truck, but in a peculiar, nice way. Hn. Listen to me. Sparkling violets? I just described his eyes like they're dizzying disco lights or something, not that I've ever seen disco lights. And kawaii? To say the word aloud will probably be degrading to me when somebody hears me. 

Duo's having sleeping troubles. No, not that adolescent male sleeping troubles. I bet he's bleeding his heart out for his unrequited love for Noin...maybe he's filling up that notebook of his with all his words that somehow tattoos their way into my soul, one way or another. This train of thought truly darkens my mood. Duo and Noin. It makes me sick. Not literally, but close. 

Just then the door opens, admitting a teacher. Long platinum blond hair and an average height is all I can see from where I am, but I just know who it is. Of course. It's Ze--I mean, Mr. Peacecraft. Mr. Peacecraft, Heero. He's Mr. Peacecraft to you within the campus. 

Formal introductions are made, and as Mr. Peacecraft's eyes make contact with mine, he nods toward me with a slight crinkling of the corners of his eyes. I just give a slight smirk. In truth, I can't wait to hear how he has been all this time. 

History class has passed by like a blur; me with my head in the Duo-shaped clouds (Did I just make a poetic remark?), and as for the rest of my classmates, I don't care. Let them float around in their own cloud--I'm in *my* own Duo-shaped cloud, and no one's allowed to ride it with me. 

I just wish I don't have to dream on Duo-shaped clouds anymore. 

It is now Monday, the seventh day of October. First of all, I hate Mondays. Secondly, I especially detest this day because I'm walking with crutches and I'm *late*! Pardon me for the uncharacteristic outburst, but I *hate* being late and I _absolutely_ _hate_ walking around like a trussed-up chicken...maybe not that bad, but I hate these crutches. And it's my birthday, damn it! It's my damn fricking birthday and I'm walking around like an invalid-- 

"Heero, be careful, will you? You don't want to break something again!" Une clucks at me like an older sister turned unwanted mother hen. Ugh. 

"I'm fine it's okay," I ground out. I should try to calm myself before I get Une pissed off, too. "Just...just stop treating me like some--" 

"Like a baby, Hee-chan?" she sneers at me. Sometimes I really hate her, too. "Hn." 

The gleam in her eyes is malicious. "But you're my baby brother, Hee-chan. And you're injured I have to take care of--" 

"Enough about it already!" I hiss, my eyes darting around if anyone heard. "Just help me get an admission slip, ok?" 

She just shrugs, then helps me to the office. 

"Hey! Happy birthday, Heero!" somebody greets me from behind. I turn around to find Meiran, my classmate last year. I nod at her and say my thanks. 

"Awesome game yesterday. You guys really beat 'em to a pulp. You took a bad fall during the last quarter. How was it? The legs, I mean. You okay?" she fires off like a machine gun. This makes me smile, though I have no idea why. "Thank you. I'm doing okay with the crutches." 

"That's really great to hear. See you later!" 

As she walks away, I hear a really evil bird taunt me, "Baby Hee-chan has a gi~rl...Baby Hee-chan has a gi~rl...!" 

"Une," I growl. "Omae o--" 

And then there he is, the person who makes every bad day become one of my best. I sound like a sap, but I don't care. Not at all. 

He passes by me, and for a second there I think that he is going to say something to me, because he is looking shyly up at me. Then the moment is over, and he is turning his eyes away as if burned. He is blushing slightly. 

It's obvious that he was going to say something, but what? Or was he going to say something to _me_? This is so confusing... 

"I already got your admission slip for you, Heero," Une's voice startled me from my reverie. "You don't want to miss too much of your first period." 

"Thanks," I mutter, nearly absently. What actually happened between Duo and I back there? 

×××× 

~I sit here in the classroom once again,  
And I find myself thinking about you--  
Thinking about you again, and again  
Again, and again, and again--  
I'm drowning in my thoughts of you,  
But I don't mind;  
No, I don't mind at all. 

I sit here, a solitary figure yet again,  
As my classmates chat to themselves and laugh  
While the substitute teacher does his own thing,  
And I sit here quietly writing a poem  
A poem about you yet again;  
A poem about you again, and again, and again,  
Again, and again, and again  
You're filling up the pages of my Trig notebook  
But I don't mind;  
No, I don't mind at all. 

I stroll down the hallway,  
My steps small and excruciatingly slow;  
My eyes roam, seeking you yet again;  
Seeking a glimpse of even your shadow yet again  
Again, and again, and again  
Again, and again, and again,  
I almost crash into a wall,  
But I don't mind;  
No, I don't mind at all. 

I reach the stone steps of the plaza,  
And there, I see your towering form at the far end;  
I glimpse you for the first time today,  
And my heart jumps inside my chest again  
Again, and again, and again  
Again, and again, and again;  
I catch your eyes with mine for a moment,  
And I nearly trip on my toes;  
I don't mind, though;  
No, I don't mind at all.~ --Shinigami 

A new issue is out. It's obvious that he's set his eyes on somebody again. Who is it this time? ...Maybe me? 

I crush this thought as quickly as I can. No. Thoughts like that won't do. But I still find myself thinking thoughts that resemble the one that I just eliminated...not effectively eliminated, but I tried. 

"Heero Yuy?" 

I blink the Duo-scented haze from my eyes. (Duo must be rubbing off on me) "Yes?" 

Mr. Peacecraft is looking at me with a kind expression. "Could you tell us something about the Renaissance?" 

I lick my lips nervously for a second. "Uh--" 

Mr. Peacecraft just smiles at me more. "Next time read your assignments, Heero. I won't spare you next time." 

I sink lower in my seat. I think he's going to nag me the first chance he gets. 

×××× 

"Happy Birthday, Heero," a familiar voice greets me. 

I turn around to face the newcomer, It's Zechs. "Thank you, Ze--Mr. Peacecraft." 

The older man chuckles softly. "You've been fine with Zechs before. Besides, classes are dismissed. You may call me whatever suits you." 

I just nod in reply; being with him in school still feels a bit weird. I'm just not used to it, that's all. He moves to sit beside me on the bench, and I move my crutches out of the way. 

"You know," here begins the nagging session, "you've been living in a bubble ever since I can remember. What's wrong?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"Is the team giving you a hard time? Your health?" he begins questioning. "Your grades, although they're not low for an average student, is still very mediocre for someone like you. I know you, Heero. You can do better than how you've been doing lately. Something must be bothering you." 

"Can't anything get past you? I'm fine," I insist, knowing it is futile. 

Zechs just nods. "OK. I'll leave it at that, for now. But you do know that I'm going to continue pestering you about it?" 

I sigh, both relieved and defeated. The battle is to resume another day. "You're worse than 'neesan," I grumble. 

At the mention of my older sister, Zechs perks up. "Is she the one going to pick you up?" 

"Yeah. In fact, there she is." 

Une drives up near us as Zechs helps me with my stuff. 

"Hey, Zechsy!" my sister hollers from the driver's seat. Really. She's just shameless sometimes. 

"What?" 

"Ride with us, will you? I won't take no for an answer!" 

I shake my head at their antics. They call themselves 'grown-ups', huh? 

"Here, I'll help you with that." 

"Thanks," I grunt out, holding on to the door without my crutches. I slip inside the backseat. Zechs slams the door and occupies the passenger seat. 

As the car slowly pulls away, I turn my head for a last searching look, hoping to be treated to a final glimpse of the day. I'm not disappointed, because there he is, not far from where we were sitting minutes ago, frozen in place. He looks so perfect, especially with the fading sunlight playing with the red and gold strands of his hair. 

"It's a happy birthday after all," I murmur to myself, and smile. 

**. t o b e c o n t i n u e d .**


	7. Part Six

Disclaimers: Gundam Wing is not mine. No copyright infringement intended. I am not making money out of this. Original part of the fiction is the property and is copyrighted to the author.  
Category: AU, shounen ai get-together fic  
Rating: PG  
Pairing: 1+2+1  
WARNINGS: none really, but be wary of bad words  
Dedication: For Emmy-chan  
Notes: In part 5, they're all sophomores. In part 6, they're juniors already. All Boxed-Up is nearing its much-awaited graduation day, the day that we've all been anticipating. :) But the whole series isn't finished yet, because I'm weighing the pros and cons for books 3 and 4--debating with my soon-to-be-busy-with-college self, more specifically. For Mi-chan who wants Heero's suffering to end already...(turns chibi, climbs into portable waste basket and hides). I don't think I can do that yet. Gomen nasai! Please don't thwap me!

(another school tidbit) The school that they are enrolled in is a school that has different departments: nursery/kinder, grade school, high school, and college. It's a really *big* school. The reason for my using this setup is because the plot is based on someone's RL whose school is like that. If you would care to refer to the first part, Hee-chan hinted something about him and Duo being schoolmates since first grade 'til they were high school seniors, but they have never been classmates and have never been formally introduced before. That's how big their school is.

Title: Wishful Thinking, Book Two: All Boxed-Up (Chapter Six)  
Author: AJ Maxwell ( webmaster@weluvduo.zzn.com )

~Waiting, anticipating for the perfect time  
To see you one last time today,  
And as I walk frantically, fearing that you've gone,  
I behold my greatest fear.

There has been hissing disgust, scandalous whispers--  
Rumors about you and a forbidden love,  
To all of which I've turned a deaf ear;  
I hope those are just as they are.

Now, standing alone along the benches,  
My limbs rubber-like, tears frozen in midair,  
You drive away with the rumor turned reality;  
The sun sets before me.

-Shinigami~

I just found out the weirdest, most ridiculous thing today. You see, last year, Zechs was a new teacher here, and he had been a good History teacher. Then he was forced to transfer to the College Department. Try guessing the reason why the High School Administrators wanted him out of here. Yes. It is the most ridiculous thing there is! They said there had been rumors circulating around the school about _him_ and _ME_ being _together_ in a relationship that is more than just friends. ME?? HIM??? The idea is enough to make me hurl this morning's breakfast!

"Why didn't you inform me before?!" I spit out angrily at Trowa, who, as I've just found out, had known all along about the rumors and kept mum about it.

Trowa pokes his food with a fork and can't even spare me a glance. I try to calm myself--but some friend he is, anyway! The rumors had been going around the whole school since last year, and he didn't even tell me!

"I didn't want to ask you about it, Heero," he begins, his eyes lowered to his food, now unappetizing because of the situation. "I decided that if I asked you about it, you might feel betrayed because as your friend, I shouldn't doubt you and believe in rumors like that. And I thought that even if it was true, I always knew that you wouldn't keep it from me. I thought that you would tell me about it, because we're friends."

"I see your point, but still--"

"I'm sorry, Heero. I didn't think that you'd be upset like this about it."

I sigh. What else can I do? "I'm sorry for losing control of my temper like that. I didn't mean to shout at you."

Trowa just nods at me. "It's OK."

I excuse myself for a while to buy myself some iced tea. I guess I am too preoccupied at the moment to notice someone coming, and nearly colliding with the newcomer as I turn to leave with my glass of iced tea in hand.

"Hey!" someone exclaims.

I stop walking and steady my hand as the liquid in the paper cup sloshes around, several drops managing to spill on the floor. I snarl, "No, _you_ watch it." As I lift my head to give the person a glare, I almost drop my drink.

Duo.

He just gives me an expressionless stare, and then turns his back on me.

That's that. My second major encounter with Duo since first grade, that is, if you can call it major. Well, at least this time there had been words.

As I walk back to the table where Trowa and I have been eating lunch, a disturbing thought hit me. Duo had heard of the rumor, I just know it. Never mind that he's not the type of person who dwells on rumors. The issue had been all over the school--it's impossible that it somehow spared Duo.

"Trowa?"

One green eye (I make him sound like a monster, don't I?) makes its assessment. "Of course he's heard of it. You have to be deaf not to know about it."

"And you didn't clarify it to him?" My voice raises a couple of notches.

He sighs, then says, "What's there to clarify? I understand that you don't want him to have a bad impression of you, but he never asked Quatre about it. He didn't ask me, either. From the way he reacted, the news wasn't much to him."

I can't believe this. I just can't believe this. "You didn't even try to defend me?"

"Heero..." he sounds exasperated. "I don't know what you want me to do anymore."

"It's nothing to him, isn't it?" I ask him, possessed by the thought of Duo not even caring about the news, not even reacting a little. "He doesn't care."

Trowa just throws a look at me that says, 'Do you think there's enough reason he should?'. Still, I continue talking, nearly ranting, "Didn't he even get curious if it's really true? Didn't he even ask your friend Quatre? I bet he just said, 'Oh', then just threw the rumor away like soggy paper!"

"Calm down. You're quite managing to agitate me."

"He's supposed to--"

"He's supposed to _what_, Heero?" Trowa cut in, sounding annoyed. There is silence for a moment, then he quickly lowers his head in apology. "Look, this has gone on for _years_ already, Heero. And not just a mere four years--you've been so hot and bothered about him ever since we were in first grade! _First_ _grade_, Heero. And what did you do? What the hell did you do? Did you even _try_ to do something about it? Did you?"

I've never expected Trowa to get really annoyed at me like this, but he's right. What did I do about it, anyway? Did I even do anything? Did I even _think_ of doing anything? No, I didn't. I didn't because--

"And I know you didn't do anything because you can't do anything about it--you're too shy, or too tongue-tied or too lost and floating high somewhere whenever he's near. But damn it, Heero. You'd be doing _both_ of us a favor if you'd just jump over the cliff and just _DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT_."

"Are you quite finished yet?" I ask, my tone soft and devoid of anger and sarcasm. He just nods, then looks at me expectantly for an answer. I bite my lower lip. I only have one honest answer. "I don't know."

Trowa sighs loudly, and is ready to bang his head on the table when I quickly say my follow-up, "You're right about everything that you've said, and it's true that I'm too tongue-tied, shy, lost and floating high somewhere when he's near, even when I see him from far away. But we do know something--he'd surely reject me because he's not into guys. He likes girls, _older_ girls, like Noin." My voice takes a more bitter tone. "He likes women who are overachievers, Trowa. He likes intellectual people; he hangs out with intelligent people. What do you think he thinks about me? An idiotic varsity player who has a 26-year-old man as a boyfriend."

Trowa shakes his head. "That's true about him hanging out with intelligent people, but what you said about what he'd probably think of you, that's not true. You're not an idiotic varsity player. You're the only person who's excelled in sports who managed to get into the honors' section. Besides, do you think he's the type of person who would treat the grapevine as a source of credible information? He's been taught responsible media; I'm sure that he'd have to see it for himself before he believes any of it."

What Trowa had just said comforts me greatly, but as his last words sink in deeper, a feeling of dread spreads through me.

_I'm sure that he'd have to see it for himself before he believes any of it..._

A setting sun ending a wonderful day, the gentle wind holding tendrils of his hair aloft, making the reds and golds stand out...he looked so beautiful that day. But as my memory strives to remember more of the details.....

He just stood there, unmoving. His fists were balled up, and he had his mouth open in disbelief. Could it be? Or am I just making myself think what I want to believe? Am I so desperate as to credit something that could possibly just my hopeful imagination as truth?

"So," Trowa's voice breaks into my reverie, "are you going to do something about it?"

**. t o b e c o n t i n u e d .**


	8. Part Seven

Disclaimers: Gundam Wing is not mine. No copyright infringement intended. I am not making money out of this. Original part of the fiction is the property and is copyrighted to the author.  
Category: AU, shounen ai get-together fic   
Rating: PG   
Pairings: 1+2+1, 5+M   
WARNINGS: dialogues, speeches, some angst, Heero suffering, bad words, some OOCness, and cheesiness, too. It's a bit long! And prepare to turn green because of the poem!!!! You'll get sick!!!!   
Dedication: For Emmy-chan   
Author's Notes: Seven years in grade school, four years in high school. If it's different from what you know, please don't think too much about it. I experienced this kind of educational system, and since this fic is sorta autobiographical, I feel comfortable in using this.

Title: Wishful Thinking, Book Two: All Boxed-Up (Chapter Seven)  
Author: AJ Maxwell ( webmaster@weluvduo.zzn.com )

So, am I going to do something about it? 

When Trowa had posed that question to me a year ago, I couldn't think of anything coherent. My thoughts were in a jam; I couldn't think straight. My infamous rationale retired and what replaced it were panic, and a deluge of self-consciousness. I did consider the possibility of Duo and me, but when my lack of self-confidence kicked in, I was doomed from the start. 

So, to put it bluntly, I didn't do anything. I know, I know it was stupid of me; I've had enough of Trowa and myself nagging me about it. It was the stupidest thing that I've ever done, and I've never stopped regretting it. But I can't possibly go back into the past, because it is as it is, and I can never change what has already happened. There is only one thing that I can do to make it better, that is, do something about the future. 

No. I won't say goodbye. Duo and I are going to talk tomorrow, on graduation day. 

At the very moment that I realized what I truly meant to Duo, I've made my decision. The letter that he gave me proves that my hopes aren't so hopeless after all, and that I still haven't lost my chance. It also proves that my assumptions about him and Noin are false, or not completely true to say the least. Even though one might say that it is very late in coming, it's still better to try even at the last minute, right? And even if I feel like I'm such a huge moron for letting all the years slip away, I am determined to make it up to him. I won't fail this one. I am sure of that. 

Now that that's settled, I think I can sleep peacefully now. There is a whole new day tomorrow that will change our lives, both Duo's and mine, and I won't miss any opportunity just because I fell asleep on it. 

Cradling the box to my chest, I slip into the covers, placing the box beside me. What would be the best way to tell Duo? I ask myself, burying my head into my pillow. What would be the best way? Something simple, but will have lots of impact. The direct approach will serve its purpose, but I want something that's different. Duo used words as his method of taking a step closer to the possibility of an "us"...what if I do the opposite? And since I freeze whenever he's in front of me... 

There will be no words spoken aloud tomorrow. My...gift will do all the needed talking. 

It is a lovely afternoon full of hope and dewy promises--I don't sound like my usual self. Maybe that's what floating on Duo-shaped clouds--heart-shaped clouds included--does to a person. I feel like skipping my way to school, even if Une will be watching and laughing her head off. I don't care. All I care about now is what will happen today. 

"Oi Heero!" Une calls me loudly, and I wince slightly at the sharpness and volume of her voice. "Zechs and I'll be sitting over here, okay? And smile for the camera! Mom's bank account is almost drained from this make it good okay!" 

I just wear my bored expression and dismiss the curious looks people give us. I make my way to the line where my class is designated, and I see Trowa with Catherine, his sister, fussing over his hair. 

"Problem?" I ask. 

Trowa just sighs and slumps his shoulders, while Catherine echoed his movements. "Of all the days for my hair to go weird--" 

"It's *always* been weird, Trowa," Catherine cut him off, stamping her foot. "What I don't understand is that why is it being so unruly all of a sudden. This is going to be bad. You're going to look bad, Trowa. Forever. For eternity. Imagine your high school graduation picture, my dear brother. You can't ever change it. It's going to be a constant reminder. Pictures capture frozen moments, you know, and it's going to capture your hair like *that* for a lifetime and beyond!" 

My best friend is ready to strangle his younger sister when Catherine grinned, hastily made a peace sign, and scurried off to go to the guests' seats. 

"Is she on sugar high again?" 

"Perhaps," he answers. I've expected him to moan and complain a little about his hair, because, I must admit, it looks bad. Well, maybe not *too* bad, but it looks...bad. 

I'm still making sense, am I not? 

He didn't breathe a word out about it, though. Instead he asks me, "So, Heero, I will ask you again. Same two-year-old question." 

I smirk at him, the excitement of the day catching up on me once more. "And I have an answer for your question, Trowa." 

He smiles hopefully at me. "Which is? And don't you dare say 'I don't know', because I'm going to bash you on the head with-- with......" He looks around for something "...with Relena's vanity kit!" 

At the mention of our classmate's name, the blond girl spins around to find the two of us eyeing her glittery pink Caboodles vanity kit, which goes wherever she goes. Hn. It's painful to be bashed on the head by hard plastic. 

"Oh, Heero!" she exclaims giddily. Trowa and I eye her warily as she steps closer. "Is my brother out there yet?" 

"Yes, he is. He's sitting with Une, in fact." 

Relena shifts her gaze to Trowa, her cornflower blue eyes opting a scandalized sheen. "Trowa Barton! What in the world happened to your hair??" 

"....." he sighs. 

"Can you imagine how your graduation picture will look like?" she exclaims, then grabs my friend's arms. "Come with me. I have *just* the thing to fix that mop of...fly away...thing," she says, giving the last word a slightly disgusted tone. "It's good that I have Pargan with me." 

Trowa coughs. "Excuse me?" 

"Pargan, my lovely, trusty, pink vanity kit. Didn't know it had a name, huh?" she giggles. Oh god. 

The look on Trowa's face says the same. "I don't think so, Relena--" 

"No!" she cries out vehemently, thwapping his unruly locks. "You don't know what you're talking about, Trowa. This is national disaster! Let me help you! Don't be shy!" 

I'm just about ready to laugh at the sick look on Trowa's face. "I have some things to do. I'll see the two of you later," I say. 

I go around the area where my fellow seniors are to assemble, greeting those I know, and I shift my gift, which is simply wrapped in indigo foil, in one hand. 

Where the hell is Duo, anyway? 

I walk further, dodging girls who are excitedly glomping onto each other, looking for a bouncy, chestnut braid. I grimace as one of my schoolmates' shrieks pierce my ears, my eyes scouring the crowd for Duo. 

"Heero! Smile!" Meiran shouts at me. I look around for her and suddenly there she is, raising and pointing a camera at me. The gadget clicks with a blinding flash, and I find myself blinking off the sudden brightness. 

"Instead of making the poor guy smile, you managed to stun him, onna," Wufei quips dryly. 

"Do you hear anything, Heero?" she asks me, intentionally looking everywhere but at her boyfriend. "Because I think I heard some lowly insect buzzing at my ear a while earlier..." 

"Tetchy onna," the Chinese boy says fondly. "I bet you'll be crabbier than this when we grow old." 

"As if I'd choose to grow old with *you*, you Chinese porkchop," she says crossly, but the amusement in her eyes defies her tone. "I'd be insane if I ever decide to spend the next fifty years with such a sizable chauvinist like you." 

"Cantankerous, indeed," he says with a smile, then promptly takes her lips with his own. I quickly avert my eyes; I don't want to intrude on such a private moment. 

It is then when I take a few steps away from the couple that I remember my mission. I should have asked them if they know where Duo is. 

The marching into the auditorium has passed by without a hitch, and now I, along with the whole student body, endure the ceremonial speeches by a handful of important people. I'm bored with all this, and I can't wait for the whole grueling affair to end. I dart a glance at the area where Duo is supposed to be, but I don't see him anywhere. That's fine. He's supposed to be at the backstage preparing to read his poem to the rest of us, the one that the principal had asked him to prepare just for this occasion. I wait patiently for him to come out, and when his turn did come, Quatre Raberba Winner emerges from the curtains instead. 

I scowl. What's going on--? 

"He's not supposed to be there, isn't he?" Alex, a classmate of mine, hisses at me. "It's supposed to be Maxwell reading the--" 

A slightly deliberate shush cut off the rest of his words. 

"A pleasant afternoon to our special guest speaker, to our school administrators, beloved teachers, and fellow future graduates," he begins, his voice a bit timid. "I am standing before all of you today as a special favor for a friend. As we all know, it is Duo Maxwell who is supposed to be up here on this stage right now; it is also stated on your program. However, due to unfortunate reasons, he cannot be with us on this day. He sends out his deepest apologies, and hopes that what he had prepared for all of us will be remembered and treasured, for not only did he dedicate his time and energy for this, but also a part of his soul." 

I must have a problem with my hearing. Did he just say that Duo isn't here? What about my plan? What's going to happen with the two of us? He can't possibly be serious! 

Quatre clears his throat, and begins. 

"Upon Destiny's gates, I find myself Gasping to breathe, battered from battle, I find myself coming home from a four-year war; Surprisingly, there are tears on my cheeks. 

There is a twinge of tenderness in my heart; It is as if I feel saddened by my fated release: Release from the adolescent life that I had known, Had *_drunk_*, had _lived_, had _loved_... And as I knock on these gates, I realize, will _always_ love. 

The buzzing corridors, jolting slams of lockers, the cafeteria food, the teachers, papers, papers, and red-letter papers, Study Hall, detention, crowds during football season and basketball season, and don't dare forget the flashes of cheerleaders' skirts-- They threaten to burst my box of memories. 

Nameless faces, familiar faces, friends' faces, best friends' faces, Teachers' faces, administrators' faces, employees' faces, Graffiti on the walls, vandalized tables, the smell of the sports equipment storage--heck, even traces of pot session in the men's comfort room, All printed in my mind. 

As I knock and let Destiny know I'm here, I wonder, Is this really coming home at all, or a period of rest to prepare for another war? If that is the case, then I don't mind; I--no, _we_ got through one hell of a war, didn't we? 

See ya all soon!--Duo Maxwell" 

I didn't know that I had been clutching the foil-wrapped box tightly until Quatre has left the stage. See ya all soon? See ya all _soon_?!? What the hell?! What the goddamn HELL?!?!? 

I sag into my seat, looking at my gift with a tired expression. I feel like I've just gone to war, and lost. No, _died_ is more like it. I feel like sinking into my seat and not being part of the world. 

And hundreds of togas rain on me. 

**. e n d b o o k t w o .**


End file.
